


Out of the Black

by LunarAsylum



Series: Royal Blood Series [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Prison, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-18 00:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2329301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarAsylum/pseuds/LunarAsylum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the past seven years, Dean hadn't even made one acquaintance in prison, yet in one day, he made a friend, and even a protector out of Lucifer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of the Black

**Author's Note:**

  * For [In_Factorem_Verba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Factorem_Verba/gifts).



> So, obviously, this is set during Dean's time in prison, which is before the Royal Blood fic's setting. So this is just helping bring the universe I'm creating together. In fact, the next couple of fics I release for this series will be back story on Lucifer, and why he is the way he is, and why he treated Cas like he did.
> 
> If you don't know about him and Cas, I highly recommend reading Careless, another fic in this series. You don't have to, but it's there as backstory! <3 Thanks for reading folks!
> 
> Prompt: Purpose, Validate, Dark

Chimes rang loudly throughout the cell block, opening green eyes reluctantly, which looked around with a tinge of fear as his nightmare projected around him. It was another day in his ten year sentence, and another day in a makeshift Hell. Taking a few deep breaths, the brunette pushed himself into a sitting position, swinging his legs over the side of the solitary bed, tired eyes scanning the room warily. 

 

He was alone, as he had been for some time during his sentence, and it was primarily for his safety. Within the first week, the guards had found him disposed and used on the floor like an old rag, naked and usually some part of him covered in blood. One guard had at least been courteous enough to his life to report it to the warden who had subsequently ordered that Dean be moved to a different cell, a solitary cell. 

 

The inmate was still allowed to interact with the rest of the prison, but he was on a stricter schedule, paired up with the rest of the scum who in danger of their lives due to their crimes. He still couldn't understand why he was equated with pedophiles and the like, and he only wanted to knock the shit out of some the people he was ushered around with. They just  _looked_ like child molesters. 

 

Dean wasn't a child molester. He wasn't even a rapist. He was just in love with the wrong person it seemed, and that got him in more trouble than he sometimes thought it was worth. He had simply loved his brother more than he should have, but he didn't care what other people thought. Even now, where every one looked at him like he had personally wronged them, he didn't care. 

 

Looking up, a guard came and unlocked the door to his cell, ushering him out and having him stand by the door as another guard came and did their head count as they usually did in the morning. It was routine as always, until the command to go eat breakfast was diverted to a different room. It seemed they were getting a new induction. 

 

Ordered to walk in a single-file line, they marched their way into the holding room where they had introduced Dean to everyone he was now surrounded by. Once in the room, they sat down in the order that they had entered, all of them looking around curiously, some muttering to themselves, others whispering to their neighbors. Dean, on the other hand, was silent, staring straight forward as waited for the officers to bring in their new 'team member'. 

 

Squeaking hinges greeted everyone shortly after, silencing the room faster than anything else could have. The three people that entered the room had everyone's attention, and the relatively attractive man was stood like a trophy in front of them.

 

“Alright, guys,” came a loud, clear and authoritative voice, “This is Lucifer. Yes, Lucifer, like Satan. You can guess why he's here. I want no shit from any of you. One time you fuck with this guy, and I'll immediately put you in solitary. I will not tolerate violence.”

 

“Yes, sir, but what's he here for?” called a voice from a small Hispanic man three seats down from Dean. 

 

“I am not obliged to answer you. If he wants to tell you, he can,” the guard said, looking over at the dirty blond man.

 

“I'm here for soliciting another person for sex, raping them while they cried, most times, and beating the shit out of them for it later,” the man responded, with a casual grin, causing Dean's stomach to turn. Great, another rapist, who probably had found a young high school girl to use.

 

“You didn't specify if it was a girl or a boy,” an younger white man called from the back row, his voice sleazy. He was one of the child molesters that had picked up elementary school kids and took them home. 

 

“It was a young man,” Lucifer responded coolly. “He thought he was my boyfriend.”

 

“So you're a faggot.”

 

“A faggot who is more than willing to stand up for himself should you attempt to fuck with me,” the man responded, causing Dean's chest to tighten a little bit. 

 

It was fairly obvious that this man could more than stand up for himself and didn't fear prison. He was cocky and convinced that no harm would come to him, but he hadn't seen what some of the other groups of men in that cell were capable of. 

 

They were all ordered to stand up, turning and falling back into a straight line, Lucifer being added to the back of their line as they headed to breakfast. Dean heard a voice ring out as they walked, clearly speaking to Lucifer.

 

“I'd watch your back faggot. You might have another fuck buddy in here,” said the voice, sending a chill down his spine. He knew that voice was talking about him. “Apparently, he's a little fucking rapist like you.”

 

“Right, and you're so much better because you touch children where you wouldn't dare touch an adult?” Lucifer retorted, and the rage was audible as there was a sound of skin against skin, and a grunt as it seemed the man who had antagonized the dirty blond hit the floor. “Like I said, _sir_ , I'm more than willing to stand up for myself. So fuck with me again, and I will kill you, you fucking piece of shit.”

 

The whole line had turned as the guards picked up the man who had been knocked down by Lucifer, carrying him off clinic and another guard reprimanded the other man for retaliating against the man. Once it was done with, the line started moving again, and they made it to the cafeteria without another incident. 

 

Seamlessly, they went through the line, took their trays and headed to their chosen and respective tables. Dean often sat alone at a smaller table he had found that only the outcasts or the rapists' pets would sit out. Today, though, he was not alone as the dirty blond man took a seat across the table from him.

 

“So I'm going to assume you're the 'faggot' the guy was talking about?” he asked, arching an eyebrow as Dean looked partially petrified at having someone sit with him.

 

“I... Why would you say that?” he asked, brow furrowed as he stuck some food in his mouth.

 

“Because you're the only person in that room who didn't grimace with disgust when I mentioned that the person I'd had relations with was a man,” Lucifer responded, following suit of Dean. “So what're you in here for?”

 

“Incestuous relations with a minor,” he responded automatically. It turned most people off, or made them try to beat the shit out of him.

 

“Younger brother then, I'm assuming?”

 

“You would be right.”

 

“How old was he?” Lucifer asked, his eyes darkening a bit. He remembered the way that the shorter man had addressed the pedophile previously, and gnawed on his lip a little.

 

“He was 17, almost 18,” he replied, not really understanding why it was so easy to talk to his man. A man who had looked positively pleased with himself for being caught in what he'd done.

 

“Oh, so not really a minor. They just slapped that on their to make you look worse,” he said, scoffing. “I hate the fucking system, man. They fuck you over every time. I should really only be in here for battery, but nooooo... They had to slap on the other things because the man I was with was certifiably nuts.”

 

Dean arched an eyebrow at that, barely managing to stop the scoff that wanted to escape his mouth.

 

“Certifiably nuts how?”

 

“Two things, really. He was a nymphomaniac. Wanted more sex than I would give him, so I came up with another idea of letting him sleep with other people as long as I knew who they were or met them before hand,” he said, licking his lips slightly. “And I never raped him. Despite what he seemed to believe, I loved him. Still do, if you'd like to ignore the fact that he landed me in prison for 15 years. I've already served seven years, but the place I was at, I had to be moved from.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Too many people trying to kill me, because I was gay, and then subsequently ended up in the hospital because they forget that I was put in here for battery, too.”

 

“Do you take joy in hurting people?”

 

“I won't lie. Yes, I do. I think it's funny,” he said, smiling a little. “Does that scare you?”

 

“Only if you think it'll be funny to hurt me.”

 

That made Lucifer laugh, grinning widely as he looked over Dean. 

 

“I like you. What's your name?”

 

“Dean. Dean Winchester. You're... just Lucifer?”

 

“Yeah, changed my name when I turned 18, hated the one my parents gave me. Figured the name of Satan was enough to piss anyone off, and the government couldn't tell me no when I claimed it was for religious purposes. Good ol' religious freedom,” he said, laughing again, and Dean had to marvel at this man.

 

A man who had been sentenced to 15 years in prison because of his boyfriend as well, and yet he seemed to find no qualm in being there. It was as though he enjoyed being there and it made the brunette wonder how someone could enjoy prison, especially when everyone else seemed to hate him there. 

 

“So how long you been here, Dean?”

 

“Six years,” he said quietly, staring down at his tray of surprisingly decent food. Now, he knew where he tax money went. It wasn't anything but to help convicts feel a little more at ease about being convicts.

 

“First time?”

 

“Do I look old enough to have been here more than once?” Dean asked, looking up with a raised brow. 

 

Lucifer laughed at that, grinning so wide, Dean was a little worried his face might split in two. He couldn't understand why this man seemed so  _pleased_ to be there. His concern and confusion must have been apparently, because the other man chuckled lightly. 

 

“I like you,” he said, smiling charmingly at him. “I like you a lot, and I think we could be friends.”

 

“Do you often make friends in prison?”

 

“Sometimes, one finds that prison is where friends matter the most,” Lucifer replied, his smile still charming and easy. It almost made Dean feel at ease, but there was something just so out of place about it that he couldn't feel any comfort from it. 

 

“Why did you lie about your crimes when you told everyone what you'd done?” he asked before sticking another bite of food into his mouth. He was trying to glean as much information out of this guy as possible. The more interested he seemed, perhaps the less of a target he'd be when the guy decided to go after the 'other fag'. 

 

“I didn't lie. That's what I was charged with and sentenced to prison for. That's what he said to the cops about me. There's one thing in this world that I hate more than stupid people, and that's rapists,” he said quietly. 

 

“Were you raped as a child?”

 

The look Dean received was one he hadn't quite anticipated. It was a gaze full of intensity and sorrow, yet fierce and slightly frightening. He could see the thoughts being calculated behind ice blue eyes that were incredibly enticing and beautiful. Blinking a few times, he forced himself to look anywhere but the man's eyes, Lucifer's voice breaking him out of his reverie. 

 

“I was,” he said softly. “I, uh... Never told anyone. Not even Cass.”

 

“Cass?”

 

“My ex. The one who put me in here.”

 

“Oh.”

 

There was a moment of silence between them, only the sound of utensils against trays and hushed talking from other inmates.

 

“So why are you in this cell block? I wouldn't think you would be here, of all places,” Lucifer asked, setting his silverware down as he leaned forward. 

 

“I was raped and beaten by the three different cellmates I had in the other blocks I had been in. Apparently, they didn't realize that most people would think incestuous charge with a minor was rape worthy,” he said bitterly. “It took them three consecutive times to finally get it.”

 

“Oh,” Lucifer said, his voice darkening a bit. “You don't see anyone from those cell blocks do you.” 

 

“Yeah, we do, but the guys were moved to a different penitentiary, so I don't have to be concerned about them doing anything,” Dean said, finishing his food shortly after. “Besides, I spend most of my free rec time in the library. Hardly anyone goes in there, so I get alone time, and I remain completely untouched.”

 

“Right,” the other responded, and he opened his mouth to speak again, but the chime of breakfast being over canceled his voice out and he closed his lips. Looking around apprehensively, Dean got up, not really expecting Lucifer to follow him like a puppy. One by one, the inmates dumped what food was left over in the trash, and placed their trays and silverware on a rack, before being instructed it was now rec time. 

 

Each inmate had to specify and take a tag that specified the area they were going to, and Dean sincerely hoped that he would be alone in the library. Once he took his tag, he practically bolted for the library, hoping that Lucifer wouldn't follow, and when he didn't, he was very happy. 

 

The next couple of weeks went on like that: Lucifer would join him for food, they would discuss various parts of their lives, and then they would go their separate ways. During the mandatory outside time, Dean mostly clung to the walls, watching the way Lucifer interacted with the other inmates who seemed to have a certain amount of respect for him.

 

Dean wouldn't really call it respect, maybe fear, or respect to what Lucifer could do. Either way, they didn't mess with him, and it seemed by default, Dean either. It was amazing that he didn't get scowling glances or snide comments during food breaks. It was like that over the course of the next year. 

 

He would never really lay claim to it, but he had come to care for Lucifer in some sort of fashion. Probably as a really close friend, but he really couldn't put his finger on it. There were certain things about the man that put him on edge, especially his ease with people in general, but he could overlook it for the fact that his time there had become so much more enjoyable and passed much quicker.

 

What he hadn't expected though, was for that time to end. During one of the outside rec times, he had been sitting by the wall as he always did, and Lucifer was hanging out with a group of other inmates when someone had approached him, standing beside him. Looking up, he hadn't even managed to say anything before a foot made solid connection with the side of his head. A yelp of pain had escaped him as he fell over, instantly raising his arms to try and protect him as another kick landed against his back. 

 

The air was knocked out of him as more kicks and stomps landed all over his body and he could barely hear the yells of the guards and other inmates. His whole entire body began to ache, his head pounding wildly as his heart raced, and then it suddenly just stopped. No more feet connected with any part of him, and the yells and screams only increased in strength as he rolled and tried to sit up.

 

A slightly blurry image met his eyes as he saw Lucifer pummeling the man that had apparently been assaulting him. Blood dripped down the man's face and Lucifer's hand as he continued to punch until a guard pulled him away.

 

“You fucking touch another soul and I swear to God I will kill you,” Lucifer snapped as a guard dragged him a few feet away from the other man. Coughs were the only reply the older man had received as they carted the man off to the infirmary. 

 

Guards were yelling at the other man to calm down and shut up, telling him that he if hit or injured anyone else, he'd be put in solitary. Dean remembered a couple of other inmates helping him up, which had hadn't expected as a guard greeted him. Once he was standing, he ran a hand over the side of his head where he'd been kicked.

 

“Come on, son, let's get you to the infirmary and get you checked out,” the man said, taking his upper arm, and slowly leading him out of the courtyard. He felt dizzy and unstable as he followed, but he wouldn't for the face he saw when he turned around.

 

Lucifer was standing there, concern as clear as the sky dripping off his face. His stance was tense, and his bloody hand was clenched in a fist. He looked ready to pounce on anyone, ready to kill, and yet, the concern was the only thing Dean could focus on. Blinking a few times to make sure he didn't imagine it, the last thing he saw was Lucifer saying something to himself and looking away as the door closed between them.

 

In the whole year he had been there, Lucifer hadn't gotten into a fight, even when other fights broke out. An inmate had even been beaten to death by a few other inmates, but he had never stepped in to stop those fights or to just join in for fun.

 

So why in the hell had he stopped Dean from being kicked to death?

 


End file.
